


(Do You Hear) What I Hear

by shrugheadjonesthethird



Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Betty is a fierce mama, Bughead Parents, Bughead Secret Santa, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dad Jughead is the softest nugget, F/M, Fluff, Hard of Hearing daughter, Keeping traditions, Traditions, married bughead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrugheadjonesthethird/pseuds/shrugheadjonesthethird
Summary: Written for Bughead Secret Santa 2018 for @torybSummary: Betty and Jughead have a hard of hearing daughter named Virginia Jane who they help celebrate Christmas.





	(Do You Hear) What I Hear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Toryb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toryb/gifts).



> Hello! Welcome to this fluffy Christmas oneshot for our lovely Miss Tori! I never thought I'd see the day where I wrote Christmas fluff, but here it is! 
> 
> I was so excited to get one of our amazing admins for this year's secret santa! I have to say though, writing something specifically for someone you look up to is nerve wracking, but amazing, so I hope I did her request justice.
> 
> Special thanks to my always amazing betas: Lyss (bettscoopr/breathewords) and K (bugggghead). You two ladies are amazing. thank you for dealing with my nagging self!

* * *

 

Virginia Jane Jones had just started kindergarten when her life took a turn for the worse. After a mysterious rash and fever plagued their beautiful daughter, Betty and Jughead took her to the doctor and thought after she finished her cycle of antibiotics, that would be the end of it. They’d thought she got by unscathed, but after a month or so, the ringing in her ears didn’t stop. When they took her for a hearing test, the doctor confirmed the illness left her with some lasting damage. _It could have been worse,_ the audiologist had told them as she fit Ginny for her new hearing aids.

The Jones family was learning to cope. It has been just about a year since Ginny had contracted meningitis and lost some of her hearing. It was a struggle at first, neither Betty nor Jughead had experience with anyone deaf or hard of hearing, but they made it work.

They found family classes to learn sign language, worked with Ginny everyday on lip reading and found anything they could think of that would help her continue to lead the life she was living before she got sick and lost her hearing.

Luckily, Ginny, much like her mother, was a quick study and took very well to learning sign language and reading lips. Her day to day didn’t change much, and because she had already established her speech, it didn’t change her voice enough to sway her from talking. Some days, she didn’t mind it. It made nap time easier—she’d turn down her hearing aids and let everything around her fall away.

\--

It was Christmas time, her favorite time of year. There wasn’t much snow yet, but there would be in a few days—at least that’s what the closed captioning on the weather forecast had said. In her first grade class, her teacher asked Ginny and her classmates to write letters to Santa.

 

_Dear Santa,_  

_I’m worried this Christmas is going to be different because I can’t do all the same things I could last year. I can’t do what all of the other kids can do._

_I just want my hearing back so Christmas can be the same like its always been. I want to be normal again. There isn’t anything else that I want._

_Love,_

_Virginia Jane Jones_

 

Her teacher, Ms. Grundy, had contacted Betty when she read through them and asked for a parent teacher conference.

“Has she been having trouble in class?” Betty asked, trying to figure out why she and her husband were called in.

“Oh, not at all. She is exceptional in every way, Mr. and Mrs. Jones. She’s even taking to helping the new boy in class with his reading.”

Their hearts swelled with pride. Their little girl was too smart for her own good, just like her parents had been at her age.

“So, what seems to be the problem?” Jughead asked, fidgeting in the seat not intended for a thirty-year-old, six-foot-two man.

“I had the kids write letters to Santa, seeing how Christmas is coming up.” They nodded in understanding as Grundy passed over a sheet of paper with their daughters crayoned writing on it.

They read it over and Betty’s tears were nearly instantaneous.

“But she _is_ normal,” Jughead said, running his hand through his hair.

How had they not seen it? How had they not seen their daughter’s struggle? Betty and Jughead hadn’t noticed that Ginny had been keeping to herself more, but it was difficult even for them to detect the change—her head was almost always buried in a book.

They left the school more confused than when they arrived. How could their daughter not think she was normal? Ginny was still smart and beautiful and caring and determined, just as she’d always been.

“We’ve done everything we possibly could for her to get to where she is. I know the meningitis took her hearing, but she’s learning sign language and she still has her friends, she didn’t have to switch schools. What are we missing?” Jughead ran his fingers through his hair as Betty slowly pulled into the driveway.

“This isn’t our fault, Jug,” Betty reasoned. “We didn’t get her sick. We are doing the best we can with the hand we’ve been dealt, and we’ve definitely been dealt worse,” she said with a light laugh to try to clear the somber mood that had settled between them since they’d read their daughter’s letter.

Logically, Jughead knew Betty was right, but he still couldn’t get past the fact that they hadn’t noticed their daughter’s turmoil. That _he_ hadn’t noticed.

They didn’t linger in the car, though. They knew the carpool from Ginny’s after school program would be home sooner rather than later, and they were always sure to welcome her home with loving hugs and kisses.

She usually followed the same routine when she got home. Ginny would walk in the door, take off her coat, hang it next to her parents’, slip her shoes off and line them up next to the others. She’d take her backpack and sit at the dining room table and finish the assignments she was given that day. Ginny was an excellent student, just as her parents had been, the pride of every class she ever stepped foot in.

Betty and Jughead were standing in the kitchen quietly discussing their course of action when their daughter arrived home and tried to sneak through the door unnoticed. They heard the quiet click of the latch behind her, but did not hear the telltale sounds of footsteps toward them. Instead, they heard a flurry of little feet pattering up the stairs and the slam of a door.

Betty looked to Jughead wide eyed, clearly upset over her daughter’s homecoming.

“Let me go,” Jughead reassured her as he kissed the top of her head and left her in the kitchen.

Jughead made his way up the stairs and poked his head into Ginny’s room. She was flopped face down on her bed, her purple shiny hearing aids on the bedside table. Jughead could hear the quiet sobs and see her tiny shaking shoulders from the doorway. He flickered the lights three times to alert her to his presence and she shot up, wiping the tears from her face but still sniffling.

Jughead creased his brow and cocked his head to the side, bringing his right hand with three middle fingers curled down to his chin and tapped it twice. _What’s wrong?_

Ginny crossed her arms and shook her head. Jughead wasn’t sure if she was saying nothing was wrong or if she was refusing to sign to him in return. He tried again, adding a sad faced rub of his chest. _Please._

Ginny huffed as Jughead made his way toward his distraught daughter. Her blonde hair was a mess around her shoulders, hiding her ears and half of her face. He tucked the hair behind her ears and picked her chin up carefully, forcing her gaze on him.

“What’s wrong, little bug?” he said, making sure to enunciate each word, keeping his face neutral.

Ginny picked up her hands from her sides and pinched her fingers together, forming two _O_ shapes and waving them in front of her. _Nothing._

“I don’t believe you,” Jughead said.

Ginny looked down, tears spilling from her eyes again.

“I want to be able to hear good again, Dad,” she said, her voice quiet. Volume control was something she had been working on with her speech therapist.

“I know, honey,” he said, ignoring her grammatical error just this once. Instead, he reached for her hearing aids, gently placed them in her ears and turned them on. “Is that a little better?” She nodded.

She wiped at her damp cheeks again, adding to the red, blotchy patches blooming on her face. Jughead hated to see his daughter upset for any reason, but especially like this when there was nothing he could do to fix it.

“Your teacher called me and Mama today,” he started. Ginny’s eyes went wide, but more out of curiosity than anything else that he could tell. “She showed us the letter you wrote to Santa.”

Ginny’s lips formed a silent _oh_ . She formed a fist with her left hand and made circles at her chest. _Sorry._

“Don’t be sorry. Why didn’t you tell us you felt that way?” Jughead rubbed his hand up and down his daughter’s arm, making sure to keep eye contact with her, so she knew she had his full attention.

“I don’t know. I just feel like the other kids don’t want to be my friend anymore. They think I’m mean because I can’t always hear when they call for me at recess or if I forget to turn my ears back on after nap time,” she sulked.

Jughead’s heart sank in his chest. He never wanted his daughter to feel alone; he knew all too well what that felt like.

“They don’t think you’re mean. They just don’t understand. It’s new for all of us, kiddo,” he reassured her. “Why don’t you take off your shoes and grab your book and we can have family time, okay?”

Jughead loved family time. Family time was sitting in the living room, each piled on top of the other with a book. Sometimes Betty would read outloud. Other times, they’d all read something different. But either way, it was time they spent together. Jughead loved to watch his ladies react to the words on their respective pages; he loved to see their eyes light up or their brows crease in frustration or sadness. It was what he loved most about his girls—how expressive they were.

He stood up carefully, feeling the crack in his tired knees as he extended his arm out to Ginny and waited for her to take it. He watched her kick off her tiny converse sneakers, grab her well-loved copy of _Charlotte’s Web_ and take his hand to go downstairs.

They were greeted by Betty, a worried look plastered on her face. She tapped her ear in Jughead’s direction, silently asking if Ginny had her hearing aids in. He gave a quick nod.

“How was school today, bug?” Betty asked.

Ginny shrugged. “It was okay. The new kid likes to read, too.” She always got excited when there was someone in her reading level in her class. It wasn’t often there was another first grader with a third grade reading level in her midst.

“That’s great, honey!” Betty clasped her hands together excitedly in front of her chest.

“Daddy said family time,” Ginny said, walking toward the living room and plopping herself on her favorite spot on the couch—right in between where her parents sat.

“Then family time it is.” Betty shrugged, brushing off her hands and heading toward the book shelf that lined the living room wall. She plucked the matching novel from her _to read_ pile and settled herself on the couch before Ginny laid her head in her mother’s lap.

Betty absentmindedly brushed her fingers through her daughter’s curls as Jughead settled himself in and pulled Ginny’s feet on top of his thighs. They stayed that way for nearly an hour, taking turns reading different parts with animated voices before Jughead’s stomach rumbled louder than Betty’s words and brought them all back into the living room.

“You guys stay, I’ll make dinner,” Betty said, carefully lifting Ginny’s head from her lap. She busied herself in the kitchen, whipping up dinner quickly while listening to the soft chatter from the other room. She was stirring the pot on the stove when the idea struck her.

This was the Jones’ family’s first Christmas since Ginny had become hard of hearing. They didn’t necessarily know what it took to raise a daughter who was hard of hearing, but they knew the things that made Ginny happy—Betty was sure all of that hadn’t disappeared with her hearing.

\--

Betty and Jughead put Ginny to sleep, tucking her in and kissing her goodnight before climbing into their own bed. Betty lay awake, staring at the ceiling, a small smirk that had emerged just before dinner still playing on her lips.

“Are you gonna tell me what you’re thinking or are you going to make me guess?” Jughead asked, curling up beside her and draping an arm over her stomach.

“What if we still do all of our traditions?” Betty asked. “I know we said we were going to have to adapt and change some things, but you read her letter to Santa, she doesn’t want it to change.” Betty said matter of factly. “It shouldn’t matter that Ginny’s hard of hearing, right? She still loves Christmas. I think if we keep everything as it has been, it would keep things normal, right? It’s what she wants, isn’t it?” 

Jughead propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at his wife. “Have I ever told you how smart you are?” 

“Yes, but please, keep it coming,” she laughed.

\--

The next day when Ginny arrived home from school, she hung her coat, placed her shoes, and made her way into the dining room. Betty stopped her with a hand waving in the air to catch the little Jones’ attention, unsure if her hearing aids were turned up or not.

“Hi, Mama,” Ginny said, trying to curb her tone. She took in the state of the kitchen and looked at her mother with curious eyes. “What’s that?”

“Cookies,” Betty signed and spoke at the same time, her clawed fingers tapping in circles against her opposite palm. “We’re gonna decorate Christmas cookies for Pop.”

Ginny loved her Pop Jones; FP would come around a few times a month to see the family, but was usually away more than he was there. He and Jughead were still working on their relationship, always would be, but that didn’t mean that Ginny’s relationship with her grandfather had to be strained as well.

“But--”

“No buts, little one. It’s cookie time. Maybe we can make a batch for Grandma Alice, too. Or for school tomorrow?”

“I can bring them to school?”

“Yup, and you can tell the kids all about how we make them. Show and tell is tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, but I don’t like show and tell anymore.”

“Why not?” Betty asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“There’s a kid that makes fun of how I talk and sign at the same time. I do it so I can get the practice, but he laughs at me. Reggie is mean, Mama.”

“Reggie? Mantle?” Betty asked, her eyebrows flying to the center of her forehead in recognition of the name. The youngest Jones nodded. “Why didn’t you tell us, bug? You know you can tell me and Daddy anything.” She shrugged her shoulders, looking embarrassed. “Well, I happen to know his dad, so I’m going to have to have a chat with him about that. Don’t worry about him. Let’s get on these before dad gets home and eats all the frosting,” Betty joked, scooping up her daughter and peppering kisses across her face before setting her down on the counter next to where she was working.

\--

Ginny came home the next day from school bouncing up and down with excitement. She plopped herself in Jughead’s lap on the couch and kissed his cheek unprompted.

“What was that for?”

“Thank you for not eating my cookies,” Ginny said, scrunching her nose.

“Good day at school? I guess they went over well?”

“Everyone loved them,” she said, her little body wiggling in Jughead’s lap. “And Reggie didn’t even make fun of me!”

The confusion was written all over Jughead’s face before he remembered the conversation he’d had with Betty the night before in bed. She had told him about the conversation she’d had with the senior Mantle and how they didn’t appreciate his child’s hurtful behavior in class. He supposed it had worked, whatever Betty said.

\--

On Saturday, Betty and Jughead dropped Ginny to Pop Jones’ house for the day, cookies in hand. The Jones family usually attended a family ASL class in Greendale lead by a local man, Ambrose Spellman. They had spoken to him earlier in the week, asking if they could take a private lesson or two, without their daughter,to learn Christmas carols and festive holiday words that would surely come in handy given the time of year.

Caroling had been tradition, but adding a new spin on it would surprise Ginny and maybe make her feel that sense of normalcy she’d been craving.

They learned signs for the holiday itself—a simple C handshape arched in front of the body—like the shape of a rainbow—a few other signs that could come in handy for them.

Betty played Christmas music on repeat in the house when Ginny wasn’t home, teaching herself and learning how to sign the popular songs they sang while carolling. It was tradition, at least Betty insisted it should be, that they carol the week leading up to Christmas. Ginny had always liked to get dressed in her winter gear and go door to door singing for their neighbors, family and friends.

But even more than caroling, Ginny loved picking out a tree. Two weeks before Christmas, the Jones family still didn’t have theirs. They always made it a game to see who got to pick the tree. Betty would ask a question, and whoever followed the trend and got the final answer correct got to pick the tree. It was a game of memory as well as a fun family activity they all learned to love.

“Okay, this year’s game,” Betty started as she tapped Ginny on the shoulder, letting her know she was behind her, “reindeer.” Betty tapped the side of her head with her thumb, her index and middle finger crossed, ring finger down and pinky up. “Whoever can name all the reindeer first, gets to pick.”

“Dasher!” Ginny nearly screamed, running next to one evergreen.

“Dasher, Dancer,” Jughead continued.

“Dasher, Dancer, Prancer,” Betty added.

Jughead and Betty purposely missed a few names so Ginny would get to pick the tree. They almost always did.

“Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen, Rudolph!” Ginny finished as she stomped up to a smaller-than-usual pine tree. “This one. It looks a little sad, but we can bring it home and make it feel better, right, Dad?” she asked, looking up to Jughead for approval.

“That’s right, little bug.”

\--

Four days before Christmas, Ginny’s school did its usual holiday party, inviting parents to enjoy light refreshments while their kids showed off the artwork they’d made for the season.

Ginny dragged her parents around the small classroom to show them the cotton ball Santa painting and handprint reindeer she’d made.

“I did the sign, Mama,” she happily whispered to her mother and tears threatened to spill past her eyelids.

Betty squeezed her daughter into a tight hug, having recognized it in the brown, tempura paint handshape on the green construction paper.

Ginny was leading them out after Jughead nearly ate his weight in sugar cookies brought by the Muggs family when Ms. Grundy stopped them in their tracks. The family of three turned around to see the entire room signing to them. Two closed fingered hands swiping up at their chests and the familiar C rainbow arch. _Merry Christmas_.

Even the Mantle family signed along.

The smile that burst across Ginny’s face was one Betty and Jughead had never seen before. She ran from her parents and hugged her teacher, faced the class and with her right hand, fingers flat and pressed together, her middle fingertip touched her chin and she arched it away from her, her palm facing up as she smiled. _Thank you._

\--

Two days before Christmas, Betty zipped up Ginny’s small, puffy purple coat and watched as she tied her boots. They were off to carol around the neighborhood. Ginny looked less than pleased at having to go out in the cold to sing with her parents, her Uncle Archie, Aunt V, and their son AJ. She liked AJ though; he never made fun of her for being different than the other kids their age.

They got to their last house of the evening and waited patiently for the family to answer the door. The house of Fred Andrews was always one that brought joy to everyone who stepped foot near it. He opened the door wide and stepped out and nodded for the group to continue.

Betty and Jughead pulled off their gloves and shoved them in their pockets. They began to sing, as they always did: _We Wish You a Merry Christmas_ and _Silent Night_. But when Betty and Jughead started to sign the lyrics to the songs, Ginny’s smile was bright.

It had completely changed her mood, making her enjoy the antiquated tradition more than she had the last year. She watched as her parents sang and signed the songs, looking down to her every so often to gauge her reaction.

After their two songs, Fred invited them in and gave them mugs of coffee and cocoa. They sat around the living room, talking well into the night. Before long, Ginny was asleep in Jughead’s lap with AJ next to her.

“I guess we better get her home,” Betty said quietly, picking up her daughter and leaning her against her shoulder.

They turned to say their goodbyes, Fred’s last as he walked them to the door. 

“Thanks for coming by,” he said as he gave Jughead a hug.

Fred tucked a loose strand of hair behind Ginny’s ear and kissed her on the forehead.

“What you guys are doing is amazing. Seriously, I know this hasn’t been easy on any of you, but I think you’re doing great.” Fred smiled at them earnestly. 

“Thank you, Fred,” Jughead said pulling his quasi-father in for a bearhug. They waved their final goodbyes before they descended the stairs.

\--

They got home and tucked Ginny into bed as usual, kissing her goodnight and making their way back to their bedroom. Jughead paused and grabbed something from the linen closet before following Betty into their room.

Betty was nearly settled into bed when he returned, a small box in his hands.

“What’s that?”

“I found this online and thought we could give it to Ginny for her one Christmas Eve gift,” Jughead said shrugging, handing the box to Betty.

She unlidded the carefully wrapped box, pulled back the tissue paper and unearthed a small baby doll.

“Jug, she hasn’t played with dolls in a while, I’m not sure—”

“Look closer,” he said, the smile hardly contained on his face.

Betty picked the doll up and brushed the blonde hair from it’s face, revealing a small plastic hearing aid attached to the doll’s ear.  Betty gasped and held her hand over her mouth. She had no idea they even made such a thing, let alone one that looked eerily similar to their daughter.

“I found a store online that catered to ‘disabled’ kids toys. Not that Virginia is disabled, she’s not, but society thinks she is,” he digressed with a frustrated sigh to get himself back on track. “I just thought it would be nice for her to have something that was more _her_ than anything else we could find.”

“She’s gonna love it,” Betty said, her hand still covering her mouth in awe that such a thing existed, nevermind that Jughead tracked it down and bought it for their daughter.

\-- 

The next night after changing into their matching flannel Mama Bear, Papa Bear, and Little Bear pajamas, the Jones family sat around the fire, drinking their traditional hot cocoa as Jughead gave Ginny her present. They always gave her one just to get her through the excitement of the night before Christmas. She was always a curious kid, trying to snoop and find what _Santa_ had brought her.

Ginny looked down at the doll, then back at her parents a few times before the tears fell. She stayed across the room, staring wide eyed back and forth between them a few more times before one hand let go of the doll.

Her three middle fingers curled down to touch her palm—leaving her thumb and pinky extended—and moved it back and forth in a small straight line in front of her, then pointed to her chest. _Like me_.

Jughead’s fists nodded up and down then repeated her actions. _Yes. Like you._

She climbed into his lap, keeping the doll clutched to her chest tightly and looked toward Betty, whose eyes were wet with unshed tears. She placed the doll carefully in her lap.

Ginny pointed to her heart, crossed her arms in an _X_ across her chest then pointed at her parents.

_I love you._

\--

The next morning, Ginny came bounding down the stairs, her doll in hand. She plopped herself in front of Betty, who was sitting on the couch with her mug of coffee and her feet draped over Jughead’s thighs.

“You do it better, Mama,” Ginny said holding up a hair tie for Betty.

“But it’ll show your hearing aids. Is that okay?”

“Yes, Mama. I want us to match.” Ginny dipped her head toward her doll, who’s hair was in a high ponytail, just as Betty used to wear—just as Betty would tie Ginny’s before the hearing aids.

Betty’s heart swelled at her daughter’s decision. She knew there was still a long road ahead of them, but for now, she’d take it as a win.

Ginny sighed happily as her mother gathered her locks into her hands and weaved them into the hair tie she provided. The smile on her face was wide and warm and full of Christmas spirit.

“Back to normal,” Ginny said, looking up to her parents.

.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! And as always, come find me on the tumbles @shrugheadjonesthethird


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